CHAPTER 2

Chapter 1

"Hello, I'm Parncheewa Satit-songklod. Nickname: Cheewa. Grade M. Five slash two."

"Your name sounds very elegant."

"Pieng-Niran sounds even more elegant."

"What did you say?"

" ... I said that currently, the Earth rotates on its own axis at a speed of one thousand six hundred seventy-five kilometers per hour. If the world stopped rotating for just one second, I predict that all of humanity would die, krub."

That was what happened yesterday afternoon.

We walked home together. Every time I tried to talk about something normal, Cheewa responded with things that managed to drive me up the wall. The guy would start talking about astronomy, space, impossible theories.

If that wasn't a provocation, Niran didn't know what to call it.

"Aoy is staring at you," Hemmarat whispered, nudging me while we were lined up in front of the flagpole.

Niran glanced at the bully without giving it much importance and then looked back at his friend.

"Yesterday they were extorting a kid from eleventh grade, so I stepped in to help." "They still haven't dropped that bad habit?"

"Habits don't change that easily." "True. . . "

Hemmarat murmured that and said nothing more. We stayed in formation for a good while, listening to the principal say the same old things, until they finally let us head up to the classrooms.

The first class was a subject that didn't interest him at all. Niran felt zero desire to study. He looked left. He looked right. He seriously considered skipping class.

Then he saw him.

Two eleventh-grade students. Yes. It was Mr. Cheewa.

His tall, thin figure stood out far too much among his classmates. Plus, he had that "no visitors allowed" face that made anyone hesitate before speaking to him.

Well ... Niran decided that this time, he would be the brave one.

"Hey! Where are you going? Aren't you going up to class?" "I'm going to catch the kid first." " .. . "

Hemmarat looked at him with narrowed eyes, clearly not believing him. Niran shrugged and left him behind, entering the building. Instead, he hurried toward his target and deliberately bumped his shoulder against the taller boy's.

Cheewa startled immediately!

"What? Are you that jumpy?"

"Yes. I got scared."

"That's why they mess with you. Because you're nervous."

"And what are you doing here?" Niran asked.

Even though he had promised himself that very morning not to get involved with weird or provocative people again, he didn't know why ... his body reacted on its own. He wanted to say hello. He wanted to bother him a little.

I suspect I'm developing some kind of disorder, he thought.

He always attracted weird people. And that weirdo, in turn, seemed to attract him. Otherwise, how could you explain them talking like this? And besides. .. talking to Mr. Cheewa was fun.

Niran read one of the flyers:

"Astronomy Club Recruitment. Volunteer

Recruitment. School Activities Recruitment."

"Wow ... that's quite a few, " he commented, looking at the pile of papers. "Is this from the Student Council? How did you get all this?"

"Yes."

Niran arched an eyebrow, slightly interested. Normally, Student Council members were the "perfect" type: good grades, kind, sociable. But this guy ...

To Niran, Parncheewa didn't speak well. No, rather ... he didn't know how to communicate. Except when it came to astronomy.

"P'Niran, are you interested in applying for the Volunteer Camp?" "I'm not interested. " ... "

He refused without a second thought. Since entering this school, Niran hadn't participated in a volunteer camp even once. The reason was simple: pure laziness. Nothing more.

Besides, those camps were usually for students who had conduct points deducted and went to earn them back. Supposedly, they also served to "correct behavior." And according to what he'd heard ... they loved assigning difficult tasks at that camp.

Niran wasn't going to join. No way. He was a representative school athlete. He'd never had conduct points taken away for things like that. Not because he was especially obedient, but because, at his level, he simply never got caught.

"You're really not interested in anything?"

"Not even a little." Eleven

"What's with that face?" he said in a light tone. "Whether I go or not doesn't add or subtract anything for anyone. Besides, shouldn't you be studying, Science kid? Why do you have so much time to stay here chatting with me so calmly?"

He looked around again. The students coming and going had almost disappeared. Only those who had Physical Education or those in homeroom waiting for the teacher remained, looking for a place to sit.

"So the twelfth-grade boy from room eight isn't going to study?"

See? He was being provocative again.

Niran found it funny, so he pretended those words had hit his "anger button." He stared at him, as if looking for a fight.

"What did you say?"

" ... Did you know that Venus is Earth's twin planet?"

P'Niran burst out laughing so hard his shoulders shook. He gave Cheewa two or three slaps on the shoulder. He found it so hilarious he almost sat on the floor. Well ... not "almost." He crouched right there, laughing non-stop.

And the deadpan comedian also crouched in front of him, watching him laugh with an expression that clearly didn't understand anything.

"Is it that funny?" "Yes. Don't you know you're a very funny person?"

" ... I didn't know. "

Niran finally stopped laughing. He cleared his throat a couple of times before standing up. Cheewa stood up too.

That height ... it makes you want to kick him, seriously. He put his hands on his hips. "Then P' from twelve eight is going to class now. And the Nong from eleven two should also go study. Don't let Professor Suchart catch you, or you'll definitely get points taken off."

He made a throat-slitting gesture with his hand and stuck out his tongue, pretending to be dead. Cheewa looked at him in silence.

People without a sense of humor don't know how to play along, do they?

Well. Let him stand there. Let him die alone ...

from confusion. They parted ways at that point.

Niran jogged toward the Arts and Math building, entering the classroom just seconds before the teacher arrived. He sat at the back, listening to the class go in one ear and out the other, waiting for lunchtime.

In the afternoon, he would go to judo practice as usual. He hadn't forgotten that he still hadn't finished serving the coach's punishment.

"You look like you're in a good mood, "

Hemmarat commented as we walked along the edge of the field toward the cafeteria.

It was the break for secondary students. Some ate rice, others snacks, some nothing, and some ordered food from outside. Niran walked with a bit of a bounce, turning his head to look at his friend.

"I had fun teasing a kid."

"Teasing? Like Aoy? Like that?"

"What kind of person do you think I am? Mine isn't bullying like Aoy's. It's fun teasing, like a joke. Besides, my 'victim' didn't feel uncomfortable. He just got confused. .. like he thought I was crazy."

"Who is it?"

Right. His friends didn't know Mr. Parncheewa yet. Niran had never mentioned him in detail. Even when he told the "incident" earlier, he only spoke in general terms. But now that they reached their usual spot-where Thipok and Thara were already sitting-he decided to tell the story once and for all.

"Ah ... Nong Cheewa, right?" Thipok asked. Niran nodded.

"Mm. Mr. Cheewa. Why? Do you know him?"

"Not exactly. I used to see him at my dad's music school. I heard he went to learn drums or something. In fact, my dad praised him quite a bit-said he played well and had very good coordination, being able to move hands and feet independently. But he only studied for a few months and then didn't come back. I don't know why."

"I've heard that Nong Cheewa from M. Five/two is an alien."

" .. . " " ... " ". . . "

Hemmarat's words left the whole table confused. An alien in school? If you come to Earth, shouldn't you go travel the world or something?

"Don't look at me like I'm saying something crazy, " he defended himself. "I didn't say anything wrong. It's because he's a giant obsessive with astronomy."

That was true. Niran nodded slowly. Next to speak was Thara.

"I guess you didn't notice him much because you were busy training judo and going to the Athletes' Center. So maybe you don't know, but that junior is quite famous ... a little bit. Not as much as a popular pop music club kid like Thipok, nor as much as a national super athlete like you, Niran, but that boy is handsome."

"Handsome, but weird. Understand?"

Apparently, Mr. Parncheewa-whom Pieng-Niran had gone to tease for fun had quite a reputation. Handsome, but strange.

Niran sat there remembering the other's face. The facial structure, the eyebrows, the eyes, the nose, the mouth ... and the square-framed glasses he always wore. Objectively, as Thara said, he really was handsome. But his weirdness covered it all completely.

Which ... to Niran, didn't seem like a problem. To him ... that was something cute.

"Alright, alright. Enough, " Thipok said, clapping to make them snap out of it. "Stop gossiping about other people. Can we go eat now? The lines are starting to get shorter."

We all got up and split up to go to the stalls we wanted. Chicken with rice, braised pork leg, noodles, rice soup, curry with rice ... it seemed all the lines were short, except for Aunt Daeng's stall, one of the curry stalls in the cafeteria.

Niran approached and pressed against the glass, looking at the trays full of food as if no one had come to buy anything. He made eye contact with his aunt, who smiled upon seeing her dear nephew.

Yes. Aunt Daeng really is Niran's aunt. She is his father's older sister. Her main job is selling curry at the school. As for the aunt's daughter (his cousin), she opened a curry restaurant in the neighborhood near home.

He didn't want to brag, but all the food that mother-daughter duo made was delicious. With every bite, it was like light coming out of your mouth.

But today ... why was there so much food left? "Why does Auntie have such a bitter face?" "She's only sold two or three plates." " .. . "

Seeing his aunt's downcast expression, Niran didn't dare ask anything else at that moment. He chose clear soup with chicken drumstick, pork panang, and a fried egg. Aunt Daeng served him so much food he had to share it with his friends to finish it.

"Aunt Daeng's stall?" Hemmarat asked.

"Yes. Why?" "Nothing."

As he said that, he took some clear soup to drink, smiling in a strange way, as if it were delicious. Which was normal-when someone cooks well, the food is always good-but ... his friend was acting suspiciously.

"You know something, " Niran said. "You hesitated when you asked which stall the food was from. "

Niran interrogated him with his eyes. Hemmarat looked around for help, but the other two hadn't returned yet. Thara had offered to buy water, and Thipok went to help him carry it. So it was just us.

"Talk. " "Uh. .. uh ... Alright, I'll tell you. But don't make that scary face first, okay? I don't want you to pull a judo throw on me yet. "

"I'm not going to throw you. Just tell me. " "Well. . . "

Hemmarat told Niran what he knew.

Normally, he wasn't someone who visited the school's web forum much. Most topics were nonsense of no interest. But last night, a thread had suddenly spiked.

The title was: "They found a cockroach in

Aunt Daeng's food. "

And there were so many people interested that the topic stayed on the main page for several hours.

"The content only had text. There was no photo as proof."

He thought not many students really used the forum, but stories like that, when spread by word of mouth in the morning, are terrifying. And so, the stall ended up with no one lining up to buy.

Niran clenched his fist tightly, feeling enormous pity for his aunt. He knew how careful she was, how much she loved cooking. Her kitchen was always clean. When she cooked, she always wore a cap, gloves, and a mask to prevent anything from falling into the food.

There was no possibility of there being a cockroach in her food. None. Absolutely none.

"Who started the rumor?"

"Anonymous . "

But then ... why did Niran immediately think of the person he had argued with yesterday? Possibilities began to appear in his mind. Everyone knew Aunt Daeng was his aunt. She had been selling food there for ten years.

When her nephew made the National Team, she even prepared snacks to give out for free.

So the person with the most reason to hold a grudge right now ... couldn't be anyone other than Aoy and the Boxing Club.

"I think I know who did it."

His eyes, previously clear, clouded and darkened. Just because we didn't get to actually fight yesterday, they have to harass me to this point? And what fault does Aunt Daeng have in all this?

"Ai Niran, you look like you're going to go kill him right now. We still don't have proof. You have to calm down first, " Thara tried to soothe him.

But it wasn't very effective. Because, by nature, Niran is a person who deeply loves his family and his friends. If someone hurts the people he cares about, Niran will never accept it.

"That bastard ... Yesterday I should have swollen his face with blows right there in front of the school."

He clenched his fists tightly while looking toward Aunt Daeng's stall. There were two people lining up. Just by seeing their backs, he recognized them immediately.

Mr. Parncheewa.

And the other seemed to be that boy who always had an impeccable uniform, the one who used to stand in front of the chalkboard. Nong Baibon, the Student Council president for M. Five.

That gave his heart a bit of relief. At least Mr.

Cheewa didn't believe those rumors. But still. .. Ai'Aoy had to pay for this.

Niran endured sitting until he finished eating during the lunch break because everyone took turns calming him down. Eventually, he no longer felt like running toward the boxing gym; he would only be wasting energy in vain.

Until the afternoon arrived.

Students began to head up to their classrooms. The lower part of the building was no longer as crowded. He walked grumpily toward the gym where the Judo Club was. He changed his school uniform for a white one, fastening a blue fabric belt at his waist: the practice uniform.

"Shit ... I'm dead," Thara groaned with a trembling voice when he saw Niran's face just before they started practicing together. He surely thought Niran was going to vent all his anger in the training.

"I don't mix my emotions with sport."

"Easy to say. Hard to do," Thara grumbled.

What everyone had warned him-not to go hit Aoy yet-came from a good intention. Even if we know who the culprit is, without proof everything is still just a hypothesis floating in the air. We know it exists, but we can't touch it.

Niran rolled his eyes and changed the subject, dragging Thara into another conversation.

"Do you have a free period? I thought you had class."

"Yeah, we're in M. six now. We study a bit less. The school lets us read for exams more than attend classes ... though I'm not reading."

"Yeah, me neither."

At least the route into university via sports quota still existed. For someone like Thara, it would be easy; he was diligent and talented. As for him... well, maybe. Better not think about that now. Lately, he didn't want to think about anything heavy. Stress gave him a headache. It was better to try not to get stressed.

Warm-up. Individual exercises. And ending with sparring in pairs.

Coach Ong sat and watched as usual, pointing out the areas they should focus on. About two hours passed. Finally, the afternoon practice ended.

Niran and Thara walked past other clubs, heading outside. Their destination was the cafeteria. Aunt Daeng had already closed the stall and gone home.

In addition to the rice stalls that sell from morning until late afternoon, our school also has many other small stalls: smoothies, fried chicken, sticky rice with pork, sweets, ice cream, and all kinds of snacks.

With how tired he was, Niran just wanted something cold to refresh himself. He ordered a watermelon smoothie (low sugar). Thara ordered orange juice. When the drinks were handed to us, we went to sit on some wooden chairs. That exact spot was in front of the Boxing Club building.

Then Niran saw Aoy come out with his group. The other saw him too. That's why he approached with both hands in his pockets, walking with a defiant attitude, leaning on the number of friends he had behind him to feel important.

The truth is that neither he nor Thara was afraid. Yesterday Niran hadn't been either; he simply didn't want to get hurt. If he faced them, the problem would grow. He wanted to avoid headaches ... but it seemed he could no longer dodge this one.

"Hey, Ai Niran. Yesterday you went running off with that nerd. And today I heard students boycotted your aunt's stall, right?" Aoy mocked, letting out a loud laugh along with his group.

He was sipping a red soda with a posture he thought was provocative. The Boxing Club members stopped laughing. Aoy took a step forward and propped one foot on the bench next to where Niran was sitting. He stopped drinking and looked up at the judo star before speaking:

"Don't you know how to stand like a normal person?"

"Don't you ever get tired of bothering people?"

"Isn't the one who doesn't get tired you? If you have something to say, fight me head-on. Don't hide behind a keyboard. And stop parading around with your gang thinking you're cool. To me, that's not cool."

Aoy slammed the soda cup hard against the table, making the liquid splash. Niran also stood up. He felt better not having anyone looking down at him. Besides, it was clear he was a bit taller than Aoy. That's why he gave a lopsided smile, with an air of superiority.

"If you think you're so strong, how about one-on-one? I'm challenging you right now," he said.

Thara reached out to grab his shoulder. Niran knew his friend was trying to stop him, but ... it was already too late.

"You think someone from the Boxing Club can't hit someone from the Judo Club?"

"Yeah, go ahead, try it."

At that point, our group was already drawing a lot of attention. The raised voices, the uniforms ... just by looking at the clothes you could tell which club everyone was from. Niran looked around for a flat area with some softness. That way, when he threw him, he wouldn't get too hurt, because really ...

We shouldn't use violence. But there are problems that only get solved that way. Otherwise, they never end!

He took advantage of the moment Aoy dropped his guard, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and dragged him to the grass before throwing him to the ground without ceremony.

"Ugh! Hey!"

"Ugh! Hey!"

Neither the water that had spilled on the ground nor the grass showed the mercy that Niran did show Aoy. All for what he had done to someone Niran loved.

"What do you think you're doing?!! " "We're screwed..." Thara sighed deeply.

Niran agreed with that single word. Yes. Professor Suchart had arrived. The strictest discipline teacher in the whole school had seen the entire incident.

May luck stay on our side. Amen ...